“To heal the
bruised, speed;
Oh, pour on Africa the balm
Of Gilead, and, her agony to calm,
Whisper of fetters broken, and the spirit freed.”

W. B. TAPPAN.

AFTER an
uneventful voyage the SS. Peshawur reached Aden on May 17th. Here
Mackay was met by Lieutenant Shergold Smith, commander of the expedition,
and after a day's delay they embarked in the SS. Cashmere for
Zanzibar. On board were a Parsee and a Goa man, wealthy merchants in
Zanzibar. The latter was named De Sonza. He had supplied Livingstone and
Stanley with various articles, and could tell to a shilling how much his
account had been with these travellers in each of their expeditions. Of
course he looked for patronage from the CM.S. party, but Mackay made no
promises, believing it prudent to act up to the character of a “canny Scot.”
De Sonza described Livingstone as having had one arm, which he allowed to
hang in a swinging fashion by his side, and then he continued, “Livingstone
a very good man! oh yes, very good man. Livingstone the best man I ever have
seen; good for rich man, good for poor man, good for every man.”

After a voyage
of about seven thousand miles from Southampton, they sighted Zanzibar on the
evening of the 29th of May. Mackay says: “The moon shone brightly, and a
beautiful starlit sky served to throw a clear light on the town, which
looked not at all unlike various pictures I had previously seen of it. In
the morning the mails were sent ashore to the British Consul, and various
people came on board to hear and to tell some new thing. The Sultan's fleet,
of four or five small steamers, or rather steam-tugs, lies off the fort, and
about a mile from shore is moored the large English two-decker H.M.S.
London, stationed here for the suppression of the slave trade. The ship
sends her lieutenants cruising round the neighbouring islands and

…… ‘the coast
where the slave-ship fills its sails
With sighs of agony,
And her kidnapped babes the mother wails
'Neath the lone banana-tree!’

Every week
they succeed in capturing slave dhows. Last week they caught one hundred and
fifty slaves. The gunship's boats are very active, inasmuch as they receive
£5 prize money for every slave they capture. But all this is only first
letting the stabledoor lie open and then catching a few of the stolen
horses. There are, besides, far too few boats and men.”

Besides
Lieutenant G. Shergold Smith, the C.M.S. party comprised the Rev. C. T.
Wilson, Mr. T. O'Neill, architect, three artisans, Mackay and his beloved
friend, Dr. John Smith. By June they had all reached Zanzibar, and then the
real work had to commence, and “all hands to the wheel” -clergyman. doctor,
and all - was the cry for some months.

East Africa is
neither like India nor China, hence the missionary's work must be different
from what it is in either of these practically civilised lands. “One thing
is needful”; and it is to teach that one thing that Christian missionaries
enter Africa, but the means that must be employed to accomplish that object
most effectively are very different from the common traditional notions of
what the work of a missionary to the heathen should be.

Pictures of
tropical vegetation in the background, and in front a pious-looking man in
clerical attire, with Bible in hand, preaching to an eager crowd of
dark-skinned hearers, we have been accustomed to regard as correct
representations of the manner of the introduction of the Gospel abroad. But
such are not only a caricature of the truth, but are very misleading and
injurious. The natives of East and Central Africa did not want the
missionaries, and would much rather they had remained away. They naturally
thought they meant to take possession of their land and ultimately drive
them out of what they had held from time immemorial; or, as the Portuguese
and Arabs did in succession on the coast, reduce them to a condition of
servitude. Mackay says: “We know they need our aid, but they do
anything but wish it. Their minds are too depraved to understand
anything to be for their good which does not supply their immediate animal
wants. Making as our starting-point the supply of these in a legitimate way,
so that we may win their confidence, and not merely tell them, but bring
them to see that we are their friends, much of the difficulty is over, and
we can lead them on from Nature to Nature's God, we can bring them to
believe our tale is true, that by nature they are enemies of God, but by
grace may be reconciled to Him. Being in the world ourselves, and wishing to
bring men not only who are in the world, but of it, into the family of the
sons of God, common sense seems to indicate that by making stepping-stones
of their dead selves we may lead them from the temporal things they as yet
only can understand, to the higher things, the things unseen and eternal.”

To narrate the
delays, worries and anxieties which these pioneers had to undergo in
starting their expedition to the interior would be endless. Like all African
travellers, they soon learned that it was useless to attempt doing anything
at all without having first laid in an inexhaustible supply of patience. In
fact, if one does not take patience with him to Africa, he must buy it
dearly there, at any cost, even of life itself. They had taken out with them
a light cedar boat, the Daisy, which had been built in three sections
for transport by land to the greatest of the Great Lakes, and they found
some difficulty in getting all her parts out of the Custom House. Then the
three-cylinder engine arrived with its reversing lever seriously damaged,
while the box containing the main shaft and stern tube had been carried off
to Shanghai and was never seen at Zanzibar. To take an engine up country
without a shaft for the propeller is as good as going out to shoot with a
gun the barrel of which is wanting. Accordingly Mackay had to prepare
drawings for a new shaft and couplings with stern-tube, and with Captain
Sullivan's (H. M.S. London) kind consent, this was well manufactured
by the chief engineer, Mr. Green. The Blake's patent pump and many other
articles were broken, and every other day Mackay was up at the French
Mission getting some blacksmith or carpentry work done. One day he had the
sections of the Daisy's boiler carried to their station by a lot of
pagazi (porters). Black men cannot work at anything without singing, and as
they groaned under the heavy loads, ten at each piece, they chanted all the
way in broken Suahili, “White man give plenty pence!” Of course Mackay did
so, giving each man twopence for a couple of hours' hard work! But each
requires only three farthings a day to live on, so they considered they had
extra good luck.

At last the
whole was packed in convenient loads, and shipped by dhows to Bagamoyo, on
the mainland. Here, Mackay says, the day ran somewhat thus:-

“Get up at
daylight; coffee, oranges, and quinine at 6 am; weighing goods, packing them
into bales of 60 lb. each, directing, arranging till 7 a.m. At 7 sound the
drum and take out my 35 soldiers (?) for drill; 8 o'clock till 10, packing;
then breakfast. Hard work at hosts of things till lunch, then go at it again
till dark, with hundreds of Wanyamwezi, Wahumas, Wasagara, etc. After dark,
dinner; then work again. As yet it has been hard times with most of us,
physically and mentally.”

"Starting an
expedition like ours taxes all our wisdom and strength. It is almost
impossible to convey to English minds a correct idea of the manner of life
in this part of the world - whether the white man's or the native's. The
floor of the tembe where I write this is thickly covered with sleeping
niggers and bales of goods. This may sound strange, but it is stranger still
to have it to go through.”

The C.M.S. had
given instructions that the Wami and Kingani rivers should be explored, with
a view to the expedition taking advantage of a water route, if found
practicable. Consequently, Mackay riveted the three sections of the Daisy
together, and Lieut. Smith and he went up the Wami for seventy miles, but
found it unfit for navigation. Mackay and Mr. Holmwood, Vice-Consul, next
explored the Kingani for 160 miles with the same result.

The boat had
again to be taken to pieces, and as it was found each section would require
twenty men to carry it, Mackay unriveted it into smaller pieces, adapted to
two men each, and cut away entirely six feet out of the middle.

The greatest
trouble of all was in collecting pagazi (porters) enough to carry the goods,
etc., up country. In this they derived much benefit from the experiences of
the great travellers who had preceded them. Writing at this time, Mackay
says: “As to Stanley, it is hard from the home standpoint to form a
judgment. Let critics come out even this length (Bagamoyo), and see how they
would act in similar circumstances. Of course retaliation would never do for
missionaries, but Stanley is preparing the way for us, and has placed ready
to our hands a great deal of information that will be especially valuable to
our party. But to talk of Africa having been 'opened up' by the passing
through it of Speke, Grant, Stanley, and Cameron is to talk of a large
pumpkin being opened up by passing through it a fine needle!”

At length the
expedition started on its arduous march. It was intended Mackay should be
whipper-in, and lean the rear caravan, with machinery and valuables and
everything else which the others had left behind; but on setting out on the
27th of August, he could only muster two hundred pagazis, fourteen so-called
askari (soldiers), who never had had a gun in their hands before; three
carpenters, one mason, and three engine boys, while four donkeys and a
little dog served to wind up the list of the company!

The loads were
chiefly the Daisy - which took about fifty men; beads and cloth took
more than fifty. The rest carried machinery, books, provisions, tools,
agricultural implements, etc. The valuable observing instruments, medicines,
gunpowder, and such-like, were intrusted to Zanzibar men, of whom he had
about a score. Again, much barter cloth had to be left, so Lieutenant Smith
and the Doctor remained in Bagamoyo to secure more porters.

Mackay says:
“Suddenly to have stepped into the position of 'father' to such a large
family of children, every day crying out ‘POSS-HO!’ which may be translated,
‘Give us our daily bread,’ is by no means a joke. Their little disputes and
complaints I have to settle. My interpreter is very poor in English, and
makes as much misunderstanding as the reverse. Still we get on wonderfully;
at times one method of argument succeeding-at times another.

“It occurs to
me often as a poser - if two hundred men on march can give such endless
trouble, what anxiety must poor Moses have been in on his march with more
than two million souls? The Lord God was with him, seems to be the only
explanation, and my fears are all calmed by the fact that this caravan is
the Lord's, and He will give all necessary grace for guiding it.”

Mackay had
concentrated his energies in making rapid marches, but it was fearfully hard
work, and the over-fatigue brought on fever and the other disease so fatal
to white men in Africa, which so reduced his strength that he could not
walk, and had to be helped on to his donkey, which he had been previously
using as a beast of burden.

He had very
little sickness in his camp, however, which was a matter of great
thankfulness, as smallpox was raging ahead and the caravans in front
suffered greatly. One fellow, Terekesa, with a Nyamwesi caravan of his own,
left several dead in every camp. The road was actually strewn with the
skeletons of bodies which the hyenas had recently picked bare.

Soon after
leaving the coast Mackay vaccinated as many of his men as he had lymph for,
and the cases took well, but he only got over two or three dozen. When a few
fell ill of the dire disease, he took another route, when practicable, to
avoid Terekesa, whom his men shuddered to think of. Hence they had a couple
of days' marching through a swamp which they otherwise would have avoided.
Mackay says: “It would have shocked the ideas of English doctors to see my
small-pox boy wading knee-deep, for a couple of days, with his legs covered
by the eruption. But here he is to-day, with precious little doctoring, as
well as possible.” But while such treatment suited the boy, Mackay became so
much worse that he had to send back word to Lieutenant Smith, who then
hurried on, with only one man, at the rate of thirty miles a day, on foot,
to relieve him of the charge of his great caravan. By mischance, however, he
took another road and got on ahead. Accidentally Mackay heard of this and
dispatched messengers to catch him up, which they did. The Lieutenant then
waited until Mackay overtook him, in a couple of days.

Mackay says:
“My dear brother brought me new life and home letters, which so far revived
me that I was able to let him go next day right on to Mpwapwa, bringing on
my caravan myself, as I had done.”

This place he
reached on the 10th of October. Much he had vexed himself over the short
marches of his men during the previous fortnight, as he was anxious to see
his brethren again before they proceeded on to the lake; but a merciful
Providence regulated it otherwise, and by means of the delays of the
porters, delivered him unwittingly from what might have ended in serious
calamity to many of them, and perhaps disaster to nearly the whole
expedition.

Mpwapwa may be
considered an oasis in the great salt desert. Caravans must all pass through
it, and must be provisioned there after the hunger on the marches behind,
and with a supply for several days in front. They had all been led to
believe the place was a land of plenty, but food was then not to be had,
except by going great distances for it, and even then paying prices much
above ordinary.

One day
Lieutenant Smith ordered the pagazi to cut grass to thatch the mission
house. He did not know that the men were already almost exasperated at
having to payout their own cloth, owing to the dearness of provisions, and
were merely waiting the spark to kindle the fuel of impatience and wrath
among them into flame. At once they all picked up their guns and their own
cloth and bolted, leaving their loads in camp.

Unasked, and
entirely of their own accord, the Wagogo - natives of Mpwapwa - seeing the
white man's men desert, turned out of their villages in great numbers, and
with martial skill and true bravery drove them all back in to camp.

Next day the
caravan started, but the men set off, most of them, without their loads.
They ultimately, however, returned for them, and by the 7th October
Lieutenant Smith saw the vanguard of the expedition finally leave Mpwapwa.
Mackay had fixed that same day as the latest date of his arrival at that
place, but glad he was and thankful to God that it found him still two
marches back. Had he arrived then, or sooner, his men, two hundred and
twenty in number, might have joined also in the desertion and demoralisation,
and who knows what might have been the result!

Writing on the
19th of October, Mackay says: “Early this morning I found another of my men
had died of smallpox. He was the second case of death, and being a man of
middle age, like the other, I had given up his case as fatal and looked for
his death sooner. His messmates had taken him out one hundred and fifty
yards from camp and thrown down the corpse among the maweri stubble.
I ordered them to take their spades and bury him, which they seemed almost
determined not to do. The Zanzibar men would not go near him, being
Mohammedans. So, weak as I was, I opened the package of spades - shouldered
one, and set off to find the body. A flock of ravens soon betrayed the
place. In the few hours he had lain dead the hyaenas had already eaten off
his feet and scalp! The ground I found far too hard where he lay, so tying a
rope about his body with my own hands, so as to save the two or three men
who followed me from infection, I caused them to drag him one hundred yards
to the bed of the nearly dry river, where we made a proper grave, and
interred him in spite of the demand of some natives for cloth from me for
the privilege I had used. I told them that ‘if burying did not suit them
they could disinter the body, but they should pay me for removing a dead man
from the field!’”

One of the
artisans of the expedition had died in Zanzibar, and Mackay was greatly
disappointed on reaching Mpwapwa to find the other two invalided. The one
especially, who was a blacksmith and a handy man in other respects, had
become a perfect wreck, having allowed himself to succumb to the enervating
power of the East African climate. There he was lying in a mud tembe, up the
hill, with no disease whatever - but ready to die if he were allowed. Mackay
writes: “The secret of it all seems to be, he wants to go home, and if he
recovers home he must go. [Both artisans soon returned to England. ]
But there am I, going on to the lake, with our boat in pieces - a hundred
pieces - to be rebuilt, in fact to be made another craft, seaworthy; here
are three steam engines to be made use of. Here we have on the road my
boiler in rings and plates, etc., all to be riveted (not merely bolted)
together, with red-hot rivets. Forgings without end to do, and much such
work, and who is now to help me with it all? O'Neill is not up to the use of
my sort of tools, while the Doctor and the Lieutenant are not to be expected
to be workers in iron and steel.

“Do not think
I am talking of imaginary difficulties, The matter is serious to think of,
but will be much more serious when we reach the lake; but we are not there
yet, and much may befall us before then, in the five hundred miles' march.
But the same God who has guided us till now, will guide us all through till
the very last item of our work is done.” Mackay waited at Mpwapwa for Dr.
Smith, who arrived on the 19th of October, and having given the new-comers
an ox to feast on, he let them rest for a day; and, finally, the two
Scotchmen, at the head of a caravan now increased to three hundred and ten
souls, made for Chumio, where they quietly spent the Sunday with Lieut.
Smith.

Next morning
they all set out on the long and trying march over the dreary Marenga Mkali
desert, where neither water nor food is to be had. This they accomplished in
two days, when they reached Ndebwe, where an old woman, the “Sultany,” with
a dried-up skin, brought them a present of some matama (meal) and milk, for
which she got more than double the value in cloth. Next they arrived at the
villages of the great greedy chief of Mvumi, where the first honga
(tribute) was demanded of them. After four or five days' palaver they had
the matter settled by being robbed of thirty-nine valuable cloths,
equivalent to £9 in English money. Right glad to shake off their feet the
dust of the place where they had been so blackmailed, they marched to the
next tribute man, whose place is called Mtamburu. Honga here should be
small, but the dirty, greasy old chief demanded of them a deole, or
fine large silken shawl, “such as became a king,” he said, in addition to
twenty-four of their most valuable cloths. They had nothing of the kind
among their stores, nor would they give him gunpowder, of which he insisted
they had many casks. At last, after losing a day, he relieved them of
forty-one cloths, one double-barrelled gun, one powder-flask, and a few
percussion caps. But the greatest loss of all to Mackay was his health,
which the bad water of the place again deprived him of. The Doctor was also
laid down, but he soon recovered, while Mackay, in his weak state, relapsed
into a worse condition than before, so that he could scarcely endure being
carried in a hammock.

His companions
were determined he should return in charge of the doctor, but this he would
not agree to, believing that a couple of days' rest at a good halting-place
would set him up. Forty miles more marching, the greater part of which was
through a delightfully green jungle abounding in large herds of elephant,
zebra and giraffe, brought them to Nyambwa, the quarters of the greatest
chief in Ugogo, whose name is Pembe ra Pera, which signifies the horn of a
rhinoceros. This potentate's modest demand was only fifty cloths! Two days'
palaver made him content with forty-five, after which he was to present them
with an ox (for which of course they would have to pay), so as to make
Lieutenant Smith his brother. The latter was sitting in the palace, or
rather hen-house, and the matter of the honga being settled he thought he
would entertain the king by showing him some of the wonders of white men.
Taking a matchbox from his pocket he struck a light, which his majesty
thought good to interpret as an evil machination and a design on his life.
Rushing from the audience chamber, he sent to say that for such a grave
offence as had been committed, they would have to pay thirty more cloths.
Next morning he was satisfied with twenty-five, which with what they had
previously given, made a total tribute of seventy cloths, or much more than
a man's load, and in value about £20!

The district
over which Pembe ra Pera reigns is a great cattle country. Six hundred oxen
were driven into his tembe every night, while many more were the property of
the people round about.

Here Mackay
would have liked to stay, for some days at least, until he could gain
strength enough to be carried back. The three days' rest had already
restored him a little, and the king agreed willingly that the sick white man
should stop with him, but Mackay felt sure that he should have difficulty in
getting out of his majesty's hands without the payment of an indemnity.
Accordingly he determined to be off at once, and on the 8th of November he
was once more on the shoulders of two strong men, and with eight additional
to carry his tent, sextant, chronometer, clothes, cooking apparatus, and
some cloth to buy food by the way, he bade a sorrowful “good-bye” to his
dear brethren, little dreaming that their earthly journey was nearly
run, and started eastwards.

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